


A change in perspective

by evilgiraff



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-04
Updated: 2013-06-04
Packaged: 2017-12-13 23:28:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/830079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evilgiraff/pseuds/evilgiraff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes things can stare you in the face for years before you cotton on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A change in perspective

**Author's Note:**

> This is shameless self-indulgence, which is why it hasn't been beta-read and is somewhat rough.
> 
> Dedicated to Chris Pine's beautiful face.

Leonard isn't quite sure when it happened. Jim has always just been Jim – friend, confidant, captain. Objectively, sure, he's a good-looking guy, but though Leonard has always known that, it's never really been something that he paid much attention to. Now, though, it's at the forefront of his mind, elbowing its way into all their interactions until Leonard's acidic commentary bites a little more deeply than usual and Jim starts to give him concerned looks. He doesn't know when it happened, when Jim went from being attractive in the general sense to being attractive – hopelessly, powerfully attractive – to _Leonard_. But he sure as hell knows when he _noticed_.

Away missions don't usually last long – a day-trip or two, perhaps an overnight stay, depending on the planet's weather, day length, local customs and the like. So when Jim strolls into Sickbay and asks Leonard to give the landing party a pre-mission check-up physical and volunteer a medical officer for a month-long stay on the surface, it's something of a surprise. It's not an issue, though Leonard asks for all the details later that night.

What tipped the balance, what shifted Leonard's perspective, wasn't Jim's leaving, or even his absence. It wasn't even his return, grinning in pleasure to be back aboard his ship, successful mission under his belt and a month's worth of wild beard shadowing his face. It's the day after that, when Jim walks into the senior officers' debriefing, still bearded. No longer shaggy and unkempt, it's trimmed back and tidy, and all Leonard can do is stare. Jim's eyes sparkle, standing out even more than usual now that they have a darker background to contrast against. Not that it's all that dark, though, there are more than a few grey hairs threading their way through. The way he walks into the room and greets his crew is no different to usual, but now Leonard can see the respect he's given, the authority he carries. Somewhere, somehow, without Leonard even noticing, Jim has developed _gravitas_. He's no longer a brash child, but a competent and powerful man, who yet remains the sparkling-eyed fun-loving friend that Leonard values above all others. It's a heady combination, and Leonard is struck dumb.

Uhura is not so afflicted. “Good morning, Captain,” she says, before raising an eyebrow in a manner eerily reminiscent of Spock. “What's with the beard?”

Jim smiles and rubs a hand over his chin. “I'm not sure, really,” he replies, ducking his head. “I've never had a beard, and it was already all grown, so I thought I'd try it.”

Uhura nods slowly. “It suits you.”

The Kirk high-beams are no less effective than they ever were, it seems, and the dazzling smile at Uhura's words wipes out what little brain function Leonard thought he'd managed to retain.

****

:::::

He tries to quash outward signs of his new-found attraction to his best friend, but after a week or two, there's no getting away from it. Jim corners him in the mess after shift and fixes him with a sharp look that's bordering on a glare.

“What's going on, Bones?” His hands are flat on the table, pressing down ever so slightly as if to restrain himself from waving them around. “You've been really weird for days. You seem completely normal around everyone else, but when you realise I'm there you're either more bitchy than usual or you clam right up.” He points a finger at Leonard. “You being quiet is just creepy, so what's wrong?”

Leonard's mouth tugs upwards in an attempt at a reassuring smile. “Nothing. Everything's fine.”

“Bullshit.”

“Drop it, Jim,” Leonard says, tiredly abandoning the not-really smile and scrubbing his hands over his face. “It's fine, I promise.”

Jim snorts. “It's not fine.” He gets to his feet, pauses by the end of the table and rests a hand on Leonard's shoulder. “When you decide you're going to tell me, you know where I am.” The tips of his fingers make small indentations in Leonard's shirt before he lets go and walks away.

Approximately two hours later, Leonard has managed to gather all the courage he has, and goes to Jim's quarters. Jim, the bastard, doesn't even seem surprised to see him, just pours him a drink and silently gestures at an empty chair.

It takes another ten minutes and a refill before Leonard clears his throat, tightens his fingers on the glass and takes the leap.

“You're a good captain, Jim,” he begins, then stops, scowling. “I mean, really good. Competent and brave and kind, just like the goddamn poster boy you are.”

“Well, thanks, Bones,” Jim replies, a thread of good humour dancing through his voice. “That's good to know. That's not your big issue though, is it?”

“Most of it,” Leonard grumbles. He looks up then, glares at Jim and jabs a finger in his general direction. “How did I not notice, Jim? You're my best friend – I followed you into _space_ , for fuck's sake – and then one day you come in and you're all authority and competence and the model of a perfect officer. You're supposed to be this damn fool one-night Lothario to every piece of ass in every bar in the galaxy; you're not supposed to walk into a goddamn _staff meeting_ in your stupid shiny shirt and turn heads saying good morning.”

Jim is staring at him. “Turn heads? Whose?”

“Whose do you think?” Leonard can't look at him, can barely hear himself think over the hammering of his heart. He drains his glass and sets it on the table, then almost jumps out of his skin as Jim looms into his peripheral vision.

Leonard presses himself back into his chair, leaning away as Jim drops to the floor in front of him with his usual disregard for personal space. Jim grips the arms of Leonard's chair and leans in, his voice low and urgent. “Bones, please. Whose?”

“Mine.” He sighs, closes his eyes. “Damn it all to hell. I'm sorry, Jim.”

This time there's something a little more dangerous in Jim's voice – a slight rumble, a hint of a growl. “I've been trying to tell you how hot I am for years, Bones, and you've never once taken me even the slightest bit seriously. What's so different now?”

Leonard's snap open, wide, dark, and disbelieving. He reaches out a hand, pokes Jim in the chin before stroking his thumb across his jawline. “That's what.”

Jim chuckles. “Seriously? You have a beard fetish?”

“No. It's just that if the great James Kirk is going grey, then maybe he's grown up. And you have. You really have.”

“It was bound to happen sooner or later,” Jim murmurs, then leans in. Leonard has just enough time to see the light highlighting the grey sprinkled across Jim's jaw before sight loses its appeal in favour of touch.

Jim may no longer live up to his playboy reputation, but Leonard discovers that he has not forgotten anything.


End file.
